Bleeding Love
by agrey123
Summary: He'd been set the task of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. The last thing he needed was a distraction. And Astoria Greengrass was about to become exactly that: one massive distraction. Follows Canon, might be very slightly AU for HBP. Will follow the relationship of Draco and Astoria through HBP and beyond. Rated M from the start for language, eventual Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**A Draco and Astoria story. Follows Canon, might be very slightly AU for HBP. Will follow their relationship through HBP and beyond. **

* * *

"A tutor? A fucking _tutor?!"_

The entire situation was fucking ridiculous. Who gave a shit about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, anyway? He wasn't even going to be completing his sixth year, what the fuck did a couple of pointless subjects about a dead language even _matter?_

He could almost understand why Slughorn was here – even if the man was a useless oaf – as his Head of House, it made sense that he would be involved in the scholarly business of his students. Professor Vector, for her part, seemed a little dismayed that she even needed to have this conversation, since he had been at the top of her class only the June before school broke for summer. No, it was the presence of the Headmaster that was irking him. Why the _fuck _did Dumbledore need to be aware of this? It was _embarrassing._

"Language," Slughorn remarked, although he too bristled at the idea of one of his students needing a tutor.

Professor Vector's face was stony. "If Mr Malfoy wishes to remain in my class, he will need to devote some extra time to his studies. Since school began in September he has been perpetually failing. The four essays that were set for summer homework were not submitted, his class work is utterly abysmal, I strongly suspect that he hasn't even _seen _the reading list and his attitude is nothing short of a disgrace. I cannot spare the time nor the staff to bring him up to speed, and so a well-performing student is of course the next best option."

Draco gritted his teeth, but he couldn't really argue. His task from the Dark Lord was taking up all of his spare time, and so _all_ of his work was becoming of an increasingly poor quality, especially in those subjects that he deemed unnecessary or unhelpful. "Better not be Granger," he mumbled, fiddling with his sleeve.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Whilst Miss Granger is indeed a talented young lady, she is not a part of the student mentor programme."

"Not that that is any concern of yours, Mr Malfoy," Professor Vector added tightly, not appreciating Draco's jibe towards her latest star pupil, and Slughorn shot him an admonishing glare.

"Until September, I was second in my year, average wise," Draco pointed out, "And first in the classes that Slytherin didn't share with Gryffindor. I don't need a tutor."

"This is not a negotiation, Mr Malfoy. If you wish to continue with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes..."

Draco shifted in his seat. "But... What if I don't want to continue? Can't I just take something else instead?"

"You would lose three credits per subject dropped and would only gain half a credit per subject taken up," Dumbledore replied tiredly. "And that would mean that you would not graduate. I can assure you, Mr Malfoy, Miss Greengrass is very discreet. She would never..."

"Greengrass?! Daphne Greengrass couldn't tutor me if her life depended on it! She's the biggest airhead I've ever known!" He shook his head in disgust.

"Draco-" Slughorn began, but Professor Vector cut him off.

"_Astoria _Greengrass achieves the highest grades out of her year group. She is well practised in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

Draco frowned. "Daphne's sister is a year younger than me. How can she tutor me if she's never done the class before?"

It was Slughorn who answered him. "The Greengrass sisters are descended from a long line of soothsayers," he recalled, "Soothsayers can interpret events from Runes, and Arithmancy is the art of using those Runes to show your own ends, to predict patterns and foresee outcomes." He glanced at Vector, who nodded in confirmation, and went on, "So of course the choice of tutor in this case is clear. The Greengrass girls have been reading Runes since they were old enough to read at all." A quiet pride had entered his voice – regardless of his feelings about the situation, it was impressive that a fifth year student out of _his _house had been volunteered to tutor a sixth year, and that was no mean feat.

Vector nodded again. "Yes. I have been considering the possibility for weeks, but until recently I hadn't mentioned it to her. She is more than capable, and I have no doubts that she will be able to support Draco with his workload as well as managing her own."

Draco pulled a face but said nothing. So apparently he was going to be stuck with the next Hermione sodding Granger, wonder child and Rune-reader. From what he remembered of the younger Greengrass sister she was a quiet observer, rather than a person who got involved in the nitty gritty of House politics. When he thought of Astoria he could only picture green eyes peeping over the top of a book and dark hair that hung in a shiny curtain of loose curls down her back. He couldn't ever remember seeing the rest of her face. The only redeeming quality here was the fact that she was a Slytherin, and so was likely to be so terrified of his infamous temper that she'd just tell him what he needed to know without wasting too much of his time. It helped that she was younger, too, and the fact that she was female also played in his favour.

Finally, Draco looked up and nodded. "Alright then. I accept."

* * *

He was late.

But, then, he was _always_ late.

He rapped his knuckles on Professor Vector's door, his jaw clenching when it creaked open. He gave the Professor a tight lipped smile and sat down in a chair in front of her desk, not bothering to look at the dark haired girl sitting next to him.

The first thing he noticed about her – in his peripheral vision, of course – was her relaxed posture. She was sitting back in her chair, her legs crossed at the knee, her elbows on the arms of the chair. He _did _look at her legs, then, and gulped at her toned thighs that were suddenly all he could focus on.

Professor Vector coughed and Draco looked up, slightly embarrassed to have been caught openly ogling her legs. She narrowed her eyes at him pointedly and Draco gave her an apologetic shrug.

"I have asked you both here today so that you can get to know one another without attracting the attention of your classmates."

Draco wanted to give Professor Vector a round of applause, then, for recognising how unusual it would be for a sixth year like him to suddenly start studying with a quite little fifth year like _her_. At least this way they could make up a convincing lie, like he was dating her or something.

Beside him, the girl nodded, also slightly impressed by their Professor's shrewdness.

The woman stood up, spreading her arms. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted, then."

She swiftly left the room, and the two teenagers sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of them willing to break the tension.

Eventually, she turned her head to his, finally looking him in the eye, and Draco sat up a little straighter, extending his hand towards her. "Draco Malfoy."

She gave him a tight smile – Merlin, her _smile –_ and shook his hand. "I know who you are." He could've groaned at the sound of her voice; low, seductive. He titled his head, examining her carefully. She was not at all what he had expected.

He'd thought she'd be a twitchy little kid, more afraid of upsetting the infamous Draco Malfoy than she was bothered about tutoring him, but he was surprisingly more than pleased to find that she was not at all moved by who he was. Instead, the girl across from him held his gaze without flinching, her perfectly shaped eyebrows twitching at his perusal.

"You don't look a thing like your sister," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand.

This was true. Unlike her sister, who was blonde, tanned and curvy, Astoria's luminescent beauty was much more refined. She was slender and pale, her long legs only emphasised by her short pleated skirt and black knee socks. Her hair – the darkest of browns, entwined with mahogany and chocolate and a rare stand of auburn - was thick, voluminous and wavy; almost overpoweringly-so against the delicate features of her face.

Her dark curls had been pulled back in a low pony tail, but tendrils had escaped to frame her face, and Draco's hands itched to tuck them behind her dainty little ears.

She had bone structure reminiscent of her sister's: high cheekbones, a straight and slightly up-turned nose, an angular jaw and a small square chin. Her features were in the dramatic, elegantly pretty stereotypical pure-blood fashion, but it was her eyes that held his attention, immediately marking her as unique.

Her eyes were green, the kind of green that demanded attention, like grass peeking through a snow drift as a promise of the coming spring. Holding her gaze was like being chased through a forest during a summer storm, like staring down into a churning ocean with rolling waves, like drinking whiskey and dancing under a canopy of leaves with a lover. Such a wild green could only have been taken out of nature, he thought.

"I know," she replied, coolly amused by his scrutiny. She slowly pulled her hand away, pursing her lips and glancing at her watch. He almost groaned as she broke their eye contact, wanting immediately to grasp her chin and force her to look at him again. He could get lost in her eyes, and _Merlin, _did he want to. She cleared her throat. "Shall we go to the library, then?"

Suddenly irritated at the thought of her fitting him into her schedule, Draco sneered. "I'd rather stay right here, thank you."

She nodded wordlessly, but her eyes flashed, and Draco found himself absurdly pleased that he'd been able to irk her, if only a little. Astoria stood up, perching herself on Vector's desk, and folded her arms. "What is it that you need help with?"

"I don't need anybody's help," Draco said testily, glaring at the buttons on her shirt and slumping in his chair.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? And there I was thinking that you'd been failing Arithmancy for over a month."

"Fuck you," he hissed, standing up with such a force that his chair toppled backwards, "I don't want any help, especially not from some stupid little fifth year tart who thinks she's better than everybody else." He looked over at her with an expectant sneer, half wanting her to slap him or to refuse to help him.

Instead, she shrugged and picked up her bag, not at all moved by his little temper tantrum. "Alright then. I'll see you around."

She walked to the door without hesitating, and Draco found himself stepping after her. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Back to my dorm room," she answered over her shoulder, "I have homework to do."

"But..." He struggled a little, "You're supposed to..."

She spun around then, one of her little eyebrows raised and a hand on her hip. "I'm supposed to what?"

"Help me," Draco muttered, running his hands through his hair.

Astoria sighed and shook her head. "Apologise for insulting me and I'll quite happily do just that."

He was astonished. Who did she think she was? "Do you have any idea who I am?" he hissed, "How dare you..."

"Of course I do. You're a Malfoy. A self entitled brat with an attitude problem, constantly expecting everybody else to do your dirty work. Well, _Malfoy_," Astoria went on, a malicious tone entering her voice as she said his name, "I'm not afraid of you and I won't let you speak to me like that."

"I'll speak to you however I fucking like," Draco retorted, his handsome face becoming ugly as he scowled at her, "I don't fucking need this. I don't fucking need _you_. Go on; piss off back to your sad little friends."

"Have it your way. Fail a little more; I'm sure that'll make your mother proud – as if she didn't have enough to worry about." She shrugged again, knowing full well she'd delivered a killer blow. She walked from the room without stopping, then, and let the door close behind her.

Draco couldn't believe it. He'd been outwitted by a _fifth _year. And, worse still, she'd been dead right. The only reason he'd agreed to be tutored in the first place was to make sure his mother wasn't disappointed in his grades. Of course he was aware that he'd be leaving school after this year, but he still wanted his mother to know he'd done well right up until the very last moment.

He sank down into his chair, wondering how she'd known exactly what to say to him. Most of his friends thought that it was his father he didn't want to disappoint, and it was true, Lucius played a massive role in his life. But in terms of happiness and honour, it was his mother's opinion that really mattered. It was true: Narcissa Malfoy was a Slytherin through and through – like her husband, like her son – but there was a little something in her that glowed with pride whenever she or her son achieved through hard work and honesty, and Draco loved to see her smile.

Damn that Greengrass bint. He'd show her. He didn't _need_ her, Draco decided, he could do this on his own.

* * *

"_Troll?"_ Draco was horrified. This was his lowest Arithmancy grade yet, and when he looked across the room, Granger was practically radiating with triumph as she showed off her 'E'.

Professor Vector hovered in front of him with narrowed eyes. "Did you manage to get _any_ reading done over the weekend?" He knew full well that she wasn't asking about reading; she was asking about Astoria.

Draco shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "I found it hard to get to grips with," he said honestly, staring warily down at the large 'T' at the top of his essay as if it would leap of the parchment and bite him.

"There are twelve more homework essays to be done this year," she informed him, "Another two grades of such a low calibre and you will fail the entire subject." Then, correctly guessing the tenure of what had happened, "I am told that Miss Greengrass likes daisies, should you wish to make her a little _warmer _towards you."

Nodding in defeat, Draco rested his forehead on the desk. He definitely had some grovelling to do.

On the plus side, he was definitely getting somewhere with the vanishing cabinet.

Sort of.

He'd successfully managed to make an apple disappear and then reappear, but there'd been a chunk missing from it, as if it had splinched on the way back. Promising, he thought.

But not really.

* * *

"Daphne!"

The girl turned at the sound of her name, raising her eyebrows when she saw it was Draco who had called after her. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm meeting Astoria..."

He pulled a face. "I know. I, er, I have something for her."

"You do?" Torn between what was a delicious piece of gossip and protecting the interests of her sister, Daphne cocked her hip and folded her arms. "Well? What is it?"

Draco stiffened, pushing his gift further into his pocket. "I'd rather give it to her myself, if that's alright. Would you mind if I walked with you? To meet her, I mean?"

The elder Greengrass sister shrugged. "Do what you like. Free country."

"For now, at least," Draco muttered, guiltily tugging his left sleeve down a little further.

Daphne looked up at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

The girl glanced across at her handsome companion and couldn't help but be a little impressed with her younger sister's catch; a Malfoy was not to be sniffed at, not even by a Greengrass. It was no secret that she - the elder – was the more desirable of the two, at least to the majority of the male population. Daphne knew that she was beautiful; she had those naturally pretty bombshell looks that boys just fell to pieces for. She was tanned, she had long blonde hair, her mother's cornflower blue eyes and she had a perfect hourglass figure. She was confident, happy-go-lucky, reasonably intelligent and popular.

Astoria, however, was dark haired and pale, and probably the more striking of the Greengrass sisters, especially with her mesmerizing green eyes. She was more introverted than her sister, though she had a quiet confidence that stopped people assuming that she was easy prey.

"Er..."

Daphne was jolted from her musings by his voice, and she narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"

Malfoy looked around. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The Quidditch pitch, of course," she replied, as if the answer was obvious.

"..._Why?"_

Daphne smirked at this. So, apparently Draco's interest in her little sister was one-sided if she hadn't told him of her hobbies. "Because she likes to run."

"Run?" he echoed, trying to picture Astoria in gym clothes. "I never would have thought Astoria to be the athletic type."

"Yeah," Daphne said, seemingly bored with this conversation, "She tries to get up to the Room of Requirement at least once a week for a dance. We have our own studio, at home."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Studio?"

"For ballet," she elaborated, her smirk blooming again when she saw Draco's face.

He was picturing Astoria in a tight little leotard and tights, stretching and bending and contorting herself into odd positions. He gulped as the girl in question appeared in front of them.

"Daph, why did you bring him down here?"

Draco gaped at her appearance. She was wearing skin-tight black running trousers that hugged her toned legs, her blue sports bra peeking out from beneath a zip-up hooded top.

Daphne grinned. "Draco here has a little present for you."

Astoria looked up at him expectantly. He'd never noticed how tall she was, at least, for a girl. She was easily taller than her sister, and had she been wearing heels she would be almost eye-to-eye with him. "A gift?"

Draco glanced between Astoria and Daphne, feeling entirely awkward. "Er... Yeah. Here." He reached into his pocket again, pulling out the little box and placing it into her hand. "It's not much, but..."

Astoria and Daphne exchanged a glance, the younger of the two slowly opening the box. Inside was a delicate silver chain bracelet, with a single daisy charm the size of a knut hanging from the centre. "It's lovely," Astoria said with a small smile, quite obviously pleasantly surprised as she traced her pointer finger over the charm. "How did you..."

"_Why_ did you?" Daphne interrupted, now suspicious of Draco's motives. Whilst she wasn't aware of what had happened between her sister and Malfoy, it bothered her more that she couldn't gauge the level of their relationship. For example, a fumble in the dark and a few kisses were one thing, but buying a girl jewellery was entirely another.

"I wanted to apologise," he muttered, avoiding Daphne's eyes, "I, er, said a few things, and I wanted to say that I was, er... Sorry."

Astoria nodded, trying her best to be serious, but there was a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she said quietly, "I appreciate it."

"So..." Draco began hopefully, "Me and you..."

Glancing up at her sister, Astoria smiled. "Will you give us a minute, Daph?"

"Alright," Daphne agreed, looking more than a little put out, but she backed off enough to give the two some privacy.

"You can't just buy me a bracelet every time you say something horrible, you know," Astoria told him, and Draco grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, but there's always the matching earrings and the necklace..."

She smacked his arm, but sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright. I accept your apology."

"You'll still help me?" The hopeful expression on his face made her insides melt a little.

"I'll still help you," she acquiesced, "But you have to promise to be pleasant."

He nodded. "Done."

"What do you want me to tell Daphne?" Astoria asked him, and Draco shrugged.

"Whatever you like."

Looking over at Daphne's impatient expression, Astoria rolled her eyes. "Look, I'll meet you at 6.30pm in front of the library, alright?"

"Alright," he said, nodding politely to Daphne before he left the two alone.

...

It was 6.28pm, and Draco was leaning against a wall outside of the library. For the first time in a long time, he realised that he was nervous. Nervous about something that didn't involve the Dark Lord or his father.

Even more concerning was the fact that he was nervous about meeting a _girl. _Draco Malfoy did not get nervous about girls.

Girls fawned over him. Girls chased him. Girls fell over themselves to get into his bed.

He'd never had to make any effort with a female who wasn't a family member in his entire life.

He didn't even know if he _fancied_ Astoria, but the thought of spending an evening sitting next to her was enough to give him butterflies. They weren't even a _couple. _She wasn't even _right _for him. She was too _cold_, too calm; too studious and too serious. She was friends with Hufflepuffs and civil to Gryffindors and he just hadn't ever imagined himself ending up with someone like her – like her buxom sister, perhaps, but not like _her._

But he just couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her eyes.

In the present, she cleared her throat and he looked up, giving her a polite nod in greeting. She gestured to the library. "Shall we?"

* * *

She'd only been tutoring him for a week and he was already feeling the difference. He just _understood_ everything a little better, absorbed more information in his classes, and the quality of his work was starting to creep back up.

She even set him homework.

...

_"__Go back and revise your Runes."_

_"__What?" He spluttered, "I know my Runes perfectly well."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then what does this one mean?" She pointed to a Rune and looked at him expectantly. _

_"__Er... That is an A or and F," he replied, and she shook her head, rolling up the parchment and hitting him with it. _

_"__Wrong. Do some revision or all of this is pointless."_

_..._

"Astoria! _Astoria!"_

She looked up from her homework with wide eyes, ignoring her friends' astonished stares, and smiled at the sight of him walking hastily towards her.

He pulled her from her chair and drew her into one of the many alcoves of the Slytherin common room. "Look!"

He passed her the parchment, absolutely _loving _the way her mouth fell open at his 'Acceptable'. "Malfoy, that's _brilliant!"_

Draco nodded (a part of his mind wondering when the fuck an 'Acceptable' had been worth celebrating: oh, how the mighty had fallen). "Let me take you out. To say thank you."

Her face fell. "Oh..."

"What is it?" He pressed, "Come on, there's a Hogsmeade trip this Saturday, let me take you for lunch or something."

She bit her lip. "The thing is... I've already got plans that day: I'm going to Madame Pudifoot's with Cormac McLaggen..."

He'd never seen her blush before. He didn't like it, much preferring the Ice Princess exterior that she usually had. "Oh."

"Malfoy... I'm sorry," she placed a hand on his arm, and he shook it off, hating her pity.

"It's fine. It wasn't like I was asking you out or anything," he retorted scathingly, looking her up and down in a way that suggested that such a thing was ridiculous, "I just wanted to pay you back for helping me out."

She straightened, narrowing her eyes at his tone. "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Draco went on, "I was only suggesting lunch because Pansy and I are planning on getting a room at the Hog's Head, you know, _after_ lunch. It's so hard to get any privacy at Hogwarts, so we thought we'd-,"

Astoria swallowed, holding up a hand to stop him. "Right. I get it. Well. I hope you have a lovely time."

"I'm sure we will," he replied with a sneer, "Have fun with McLaggen."

Her eyes flared and a cold smirk settled on her lips. "Oh, I will."

* * *

"Are you okay, Astoria? You've been quiet all day."

She looked up at her date and gave him a tight smile. "I'm fine, Cormac, thank you."

He didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? You look a bit... tired."

"I'm _fine_," she repeated, staring at the cooling pink liquid in her teacup, trying and failing not to care that Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were canoodling in a booth in the corner of the tearoom.

_"__Oh, Draco, you are positively wicked!" _At Pansy's mock-scandalised gasp from the corner, Astoria had had enough.

She stood up and walked around the table, lowering her mouth to Cormac's ear. But before she could speak, she glanced across the room. He was staring directly at her, his eyes blazing a heated trail over her figure. She'd opted for dark super-skinny jeans and black suede boots with a thin heel, combined with a tight charcoal grey cashmere jumper and her little leather jacket. Her dark hair had been teased to perfection, and her eyes had been thickly outlined in kohl. She looked far older than her tender age of fifteen, and when he looked at her like _that, _she certainly felt it. "Cormac, shall we go for a walk? Get out of here and go somewhere a little more... _private?"_

She said it loud enough for Draco to hear, and as she straightened, she saw that Pansy was smiling and waving her over. She sashayed across the room, revelling in the way Draco's eyes followed every swing of her hips, and stopped in front of Pansy's table. "Hi, Pans. How are you?" She glanced at him, her features carefully blank. "Malfoy."

Pansy grinned, but there was a malevolent glint in her eyes. "Oh, we're fine, aren't we, Draco?" Draco nodded silently and looked away. "So... You and McLaggen?" Pansy asked, hooking her arm possessively through Draco's, "I never would have put you with a Gryffindor, Astoria. You seem like a Ravenclaw kind of girl."

Astoria shrugged, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "You have to admit, Pans, Cormac is _gorgeous._"

"And he's a seventh year," Draco pointed out snippily, still not looking at her. "Bit old for you, isn't he?"

Astoria shrugged, but her eyes sparkled. "At least he'll know what he's doing." She winked at Pansy. "I'll see you later."

She walked back over to Cormac and took his arm. "Shall we, Miss Greengrass?"

Astoria smiled coquettishly. "Lead the way, Mr McLaggen."

As they left the tearoom, her eyes found Draco's. Her eyebrow twitched, well aware of how irritated Malfoy was at the situation, and Draco knew then and there that he was falling in love with her.

* * *

"You're late," she pointed out, not looking up from her textbook.

He sat down across from her. "Pansy held me up. She dragged me into a classroom-,"

Astoria held up her pointer finger, silencing him. "One: that isn't an acceptable apology. Two: I could care less how you spend your time. Three: I have my own friends to see and my own homework to do, so you could at least have the decency to respect that I'm taking time out of my life to help you out."

Draco bristled. "And what's that supposed to mean? You could care less how I spend my time?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," she replied icily, leaning back in her chair and raising her eyebrows. "You can do whatever you like with whoever you like. Just don't turn up twenty minutes late and expect me to be alright with it."

"I can do whatever I please," Draco said, pulling out his textbook. "Just like _you_ can do whatever _you _please with that tosser McLaggen."

Astoria pursed her lips and her eyes flared. "My personal life is none of your business."

"It's my business if it's all over school," he hissed, flicking his book open and glaring at her. "All I've heard all _fucking _day is Astoria this, McLaggen that. Blah blah blah. You're supposed to be helping me, not shagging around."

"What do you care if I 'shag around'?" she asked, using her fingers to air quote, "It's nothing to do with you."

"I _don't_ care," Draco bit out, "I just don't want my grades to suffer because you're distracted."

She scoffed, folding her arms and looking utterly enraged. "Oh, I think you can manage bad grades all on your own."

Trying not to notice how beautiful she was when she was angry, Draco scowled. "Are you calling me thick?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you _meant _it," he spat, glaring at her, "How _dare_ you-,"

"How dare _you?!_" Astoria cried, grabbing her bag off the floor and standing up, "You turn up _late, _you don't even have the manners to _apologise _and then you start insulting me! Merlin, I can't believe I stood up for you. Good luck in Arithmancy."

Suddenly defeated, Draco let out a rough exhale. "For _fuck's sake. _Astoria, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was late. I'm sorry for not..." She raised her eyebrows, prompting him to go on, "I'm sorry I didn't _respect_ you. And I'm sorry for insulting you. Alright?"

She sat down again, shaking her head. "No, it's _not_ alright." She sighed. "Where were we up to last week?"

Draco hid his relieved smile behind his book.

* * *

She hid her confusion well when she found him waiting for her after her Potions class one afternoon in late November.

"Malfoy," she greeted him, not stopping as she passed him. She raised an eyebrow when he fell into step beside her. "People are going to talk if you keep doing this," Astoria pointed out.

"Doing what?"

She shook her head. "Speaking to me in public."

Draco frowned. As if he gave a fuck. "So what?"

"_So," _She said, gritting her teeth, "You're meant to have a girlfriend."

"Oh, that."

"Yes. _That. _And as much as Pansy Parkinson does my head in, I don't think its fair my being seen chatting away to her boyfriend like he's an old friend when – if the rumour mill is correct – you can't stand the sight of her half the time." She shook her head again in exasperation when Draco shrugged. "Merlin, boys are so hopeless."

"I'm not hopeless," Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I wanted to let you know that you don't need to tutor me anymore."

She stiffened, but smiled all the same. "Oh, well, good, then."

"Yeah," he replied, "Vector said my marks are high enough, now. So... thanks, I suppose."

Astoria nodded impassively. "You're welcome."

* * *

_"__...Cormac, you're not listening to me." _

Draco paused on the corridor, halting as he heard _her_ voice coming from behind a tapestry.

"Come _on_, Astoria," the boy laughed, "He's never even going to _look_ at you."

"It isn't about _him_," she hissed, "Stop it."

"Then, why, Astoria? Why now? I thought you were coming to my parent's Christmas party," a wounded male voice replied, and Draco clenched his fists.

_"_Because I don't want to be in a relationship_," _Astoria said, clearly beyond irritated at her beau. "I don't want to be _anybody's_ girlfriend."

Cormac tutted. "I bet you'd be _his_ girlfriend, if he asked. I don't understand why you're all so bloody fixated with him! He's too skinny, he's fucking _hopeless_ at Quidditch..."

"_This has nothing to do with him_," she repeated menacingly, and Draco grinned as he recalled her temper, "Stop acting like I'm breaking up with you because of Draco bloody Malfoy!"

"Why not?" Cormac taunted, "That's the truth. You fancy him, Tori, don't deny it."

Behind the tapestry, Astoria was struggling not to see red, and she was more than a little relieved when the woven image was swept away, until it revealed the very topic of their conversation. The muscles in her jaw clenched as she resisted the urge to throttle his stupid blonde head.

Inwardly, Draco was preening. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Little lover's tiff?"

"Perfect. _You_." She stormed past Draco and shot Cormac a black look over her shoulder. "Oh, and Cormac? Size _does_ matter." Her eyes trailed down to his zipper and she smirked. "Pity."

Draco let out a bark of laughter at her insult. "Ouch. Do you impress all the girls this way, McLaggen?"

"Piss off, Malfoy. Tori, wait, don't leave it like this..." McLaggen pushed past him, and, seeing that his ex-girlfriend had disappeared, turned back to Malfoy looking extremely annoyed. McLaggen was thickly built and tall, but he still had to look up to meet Malfoy's eyes. He grinned sheepishly, as if they were friends, embarrassed that Malfoy had seen Astoria's insult to his man bits. "Birds, eh? Don't know what they're on about half the time."

Draco shrugged, stepping around the older boy and continuing on down the corridor. "At least I _play_ on the Quidditch team, McLaggen," he called over his shoulder, "What's it feel like knowing Weasley's better than you?"

He didn't even care when McLaggen tackled him to the floor and starting pummelling him. It took him half a minute to remember to fight back.

Astoria was _single _and she may or may not fancy him.

Life could certainly be worse.

...

She smirked when he appeared at breakfast the next day with a black eye. "Lover's tiff?" she sang after him, licking her lips when he turned to glare at her.

Beside her, Bridget Yaxley was snickering into her orange juice, having clearly been caught up to speed with what had happened.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but another of her flustered-looking friends arrived at the table, out of breath and appearing terribly excited. "Astoria! Cormac's been expelled."

Astoria glanced up at Draco again, her eyes narrowing slightly at his bruise. "Good," she replied, "Uncivilised brute, attacking someone in public."

"There's no accounting for taste," Pansy interjected snidely from further along the table, "Wasn't he your _boyfriend_, Astoria?"

Astoria stared across at her, glowering at the girl who'd broken the unwritten rule about not asking personal questions in public. "I hardly think three crap shags count towards a relationship," she replied coolly, "Then again, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Parkinson? Otherwise you'd have at least seven different boyfriends on the go by now. Poor Malfoy... I wonder if he knows-," Pansy let out a shriek of protest and Astoria went quiet, a malicious triumph in her eyes as she raised her goblet and tilted it in Pansy's direction, her eyebrow twitching in that way it did when she knew she'd bested someone.

Draco smirked behind his toast at Pansy's red face.

"Outdone by a fifth year," Zabini commented, eying Astoria with newly-appreciative eyes. "Bad form, Parkinson."

Pansy scowled, glaring daggers at Daphne – who was chortling at her sister. "Don't know what _you're_ laughing at, Daph... I could tell Theo a thing or two."

Millie Bulstrode grinned, patting her friend's arm good naturedly. "Come on, Pans. It's just a bit of banter. Lighten up, have some porridge."

...

He was _not_ expecting her to yank him behind a statue after supper.

"Oi!"

She rolled her eyes. "How's your eye?"

Malfoy pouted a little, hoping she'd take pity on him and offer him a sponge bath or something. "Really, _really_ sore."

"More fool you, then, you tit," she replied smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't antagonise a seventh year."

"What?!" He was more annoyed that she was immune to his charms than he was about her telling him off. "He hit _me!"_

Astoria sighed, but in spite of herself she reached up to lightly trace her fingers over the bruise, eventually cupping his cheek in her palm. She bit her lip, suddenly hyperaware of the way his eyes were like liquid silver, like_ mercury_; of the way his jaw felt beneath her hand, of the way his hands were now gripping her waist and pulling her closer, one of them snaking up her back to tangle into her hair-

"Ahem."

Astoria took a haste step backwards, glancing at their audience. Fucking Ravenclaw prefects.

She didn't look back at Draco, sliding out from behind the statue and glaring at the prefect who'd interrupted them. She pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak.

"What's the matter, Belby, jealous?"

Astoria shivered at Draco's voice – it was rough and strained, and she knew that if she turned around to look at him she'd be dragging him into a classroom and making sure he spoke like that for the rest of the night. So she ran from him. Or, rather, walked back to her dorm as fast as her impeccable breeding would allow. (Like it or not, Astoria Greengrass was unbearably attracted to Draco Malfoy, and it scared the shit out of her.)

Marcus Belby grinned, watching Astoria's retreating figure. "Of course, Malfoy. She's gorgeous."

Draco wasn't entirely sure what happened next, but the sane part of his mind eventually pointed out that he was holding Marcus Belby up against a wall, gripping his robes and threatening to hex his bollocks off if he ever so much as _looked_ at Astoria Greengrass again.

"She's _mine_, Belby. I won't fucking tell you again." Draco shoved the Ravenclaw to the floor, shaking his head in disgust.

* * *

She'd been in the Three Broomsticks illicitly drinking firewhiskey with her friends when they'd heard the scream.

It had come from a long way off, but it was still a scream.

A bloodcurdling, shiver-inducing scream.

* * *

**xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

Astoria looked up impassively when an owl she didn't recognise dropped a pristine envelope in front of her plate at breakfast the following Tuesday.

She finished her eggs and went to open it, scoffing when Bridget fearfully smacked her hands away. "What on earth-,"

"You have to perform the spell that Dumbledore told us about," her friend insisted, "What if it's cursed?"

Astoria wanted to roll her eyes. For Merlin's sake, she was a pureblooded fifteen year old girl. She was a Slytherin. Her family was important, rich, well connected, powerful and, most importantly, _neutral. _No dark wizard would ever dare to curse her or her sister, but the incident with Katie Bell over the weekend had everybody – everybody but her, it seemed – in a tizz.

"Honestly, Bridget, who'd want to curse me?" she asked, snatching back her letter.

"I can think of a few people," Pansy groused into her tea, scowling at Astoria through puffy, red eyes. It was also no secret that Draco had ended their 'relationship' over the weekend, claiming he had too much to think about to waste time on a silly dalliance with the likes of her, and Pansy was more than a little bitter about it.

Along the table, Theo Nott raised an eyebrow and grinned, proverbial spoon in hand. "Speak up, Pansy; we can't hear you over all your misery."

"Fuck off," Pansy hissed, "This is all _her_ fault." The older girl stood up, pointing an accusing finger in Astoria's direction. "He broke up with me because he fancies _her."_

The table went deadly silent. Astoria went a shade paler, but managed to keep her composure. "And Malfoy told you that, did he?"

Pansy bitterly shook her head. "He didn't have to," she sniffed, "It's _obvious_. You're always with him, whispering."

"Pansy," Daphne interjected timidly, "It's not_ really_ Astoria's fault, is it? Come on, sit down." She glanced apologetically at her sister, pulling Pansy back onto the bench.

Astoria swallowed, letting out a discrete sigh of relief. She wasn't particularly afraid of Pansy, but she didn't want her for an enemy. She turned her attention back to her letter, using a clean knife to open the envelope.

"Daph," she called, "It's from mother."

...

"I can't believe we have to go to this thing," Astoria moaned, shoving the letter back into her pocket. "As if Parkinson hasn't got it in enough for me already, now I have to go to her ex-boyfriend's Christmas ball."

Daph looped her arm through her sisters, squeezing her hand supportively as they strolled through the corridors. They'd both decided to miss their first class of the day in favour of a sisterly walk, but luckily enough the two looked old enough that their presence amongst the groups of seventh years – who did, in fact, currently have a free period – went unnoticed.

"Luckily for us, the boys will be there," Daphne said, and Astoria smiled at the thought.

Their four brothers – Eryx, who was eighteen; Nikos, who was twenty; Leandro, who was twenty two; and Caesare, who was twenty six – had attended Durmstrang, but their mother's health had turned for the worst in the months before Daphne had started school and so it had been decided that the girls would attend Hogwarts instead.

"Shit," Astoria hissed, nudging Daphne at the sight of the approaching boy. She gave him a tight smile and nodded in greeting. "Marcus."

Cormac narrowed his eyes at her, grinning in a devious way as he pretended to check his watch. "Ah, the Greengrass sisters. Shouldn't you two be in class?"

Daphne sneered at him. "Piss off and be bitter somewhere else, Belby."

"Twenty points from Slytherin," Marcus replied cheerfully, "For skipping class. Come on, let's take you back." He slung an arm around their shoulders. "Where should you be, blondie?"

Daphne scowled. "Anywhere that's away from you will do."

He wasn't moved.

"Transfiguration," she finally muttered, clenching her jaw when he applied a little pressure to her shoulders.

"Come on, then," he said, "Let's take you first."

...

Draco looked up as the door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, frowning when Marcus Belby stepped in, closely followed by a sullen looking Daphne and an emotionless Astoria.

"Professor McGonagall?" Belby greeted, "I'm sorry for interrupting your class, but I found these two," he jerked his head at Daphne and Astoria, "Lurking around near the greenhouses. I think one of them should be in here?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Obviously, you twit." She glanced at her sister. "I'll see you later."

Astoria caught Draco's eye and couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her lips. He smirked and waggled his fingers, ignoring Pansy's growl of irritation from three seats away.

McGonagall waved Daphne to her seat, not wanting to interrupt the lesson further by doling out a punishment then and there. "Thank you, Mr Belby. I trust you can see Miss Greengrass to her class?"

"Of course, Professor."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Merlin, you're pathetic," she commented, scoffing in disgust: house rivalry was one thing, but for a seventh year to actively go out of their way to return two younger classmen to the subjects they were avoiding was downright sad.

"You wound me," Marcus said with a groan, clutching his heart. "Come on."

She glowered up at him, but was powerless to argue when he nudged her from the room.

...

Astoria looked up from her Potions homework warily as Pansy sat down across from her.

"Are you lost?" Astoria asked her, glancing around to double check that this was indeed the library. "I didn't think you even knew where the library was."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "I know exactly where I am, thank you."

Astoria fought the urge to roll her eyes, shaking her head slightly as she glanced back down at her homework. "Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't. You and Belby looked pretty cosy earlier," Pansy said, pursing her lips. "Got him on the back burner, have you? You just want them all, don't you? Even Blaise and Theo won't stop talking about you." She flicked her sleek brown hair away from her face and drummed her manicured fingernails on the tabletop.

It was a shame that Pansy was such a horrible person, Astoria thought; otherwise she would have been strikingly beautiful. Pansy had a fair skin tone and deep blue eyes, with dark brown hair that reached to her chest and very pronounced features. Her cheekbones were high, her jaw strong and square, her mouth wide and sulky, and when she smiled her dimples were the _most_ adorable thing. Even her nose – which some of the ill-bred students thought 'pug-like' – complimented her face; it was the Parkinson nose, and Pansy was proud of it, regardless of whether others liked it or not. She was well groomed, well dressed and always looked impeccably made-up. Yes, Pansy Parkinson was remarkably pretty, but her personality made her ugly, almost repulsive. She was unpleasant, calculating, ruthless in pursuit of her ambitions and unnecessarily cruel, a manifestation of the worst of the Slytherin traits.

"I don't care who you shag, Astoria, really," the girl herself was saying, "I just can't understand why Draco is so fascinated with you. I mean, he's _Draco Malfoy_. He's gorgeous and rich and well-connected and just _amazing_ in bed, and I can't see why he'd want you over me. You're pretty enough, I suppose, even if you are horribly thin. I can see why people _might_ fancy you. Your hair's nice, and your clothes are acceptable, and you always seem perfectly composed – which I fucking despise, by the way, but you're _nothing_ compared to me. You're too cold and too serious and too tall and too _boring_. And, anyway, I'm Pansy Parkinson, for crying out loud-,"

"What do you want, Pansy?" Astoria interrupted her, "I've got homework to do."

"Shut up," Pansy said rudely, holding up a finger, "I'm talking now." The older girl grinned as Astoria's eyes tightened with irritation. But Astoria remained quiet; gone was the red eyed Pansy Parkinson from breakfast, and her place was the sly, doe-eyed bitch who liked to think she was the Queen of the World. "Who would want you when they could have me?"

Astoria raised an eyebrow. "This all seems dreadfully petty, Pansy."

Pansy rolled her eyes, but leaned forwards, as if to tell a secret. "Stay away from Draco," she replied softly, smiling across at Astoria. "This isn't a threat, Astoria, this is a promise. If you go _near_ him I will make your life a living hell. He's _mine_. This little break up is only temporary. You'll only damage your own reputation if you shag him, what with him being engaged to me and all."

"You're lying," Astoria said, but her confidence wavered. "You're not engaged. Malfoy would never marry you."

"Arranged marriage, darling," Pansy assured her, raising her left hand and showing the younger girl the thin band on her ring finger. "Signed and sealed and can only be broken by _my_ father. I wanted it to be a secret until Christmas, but what with you making moon eyes at him at every opportunity I thought I should let you know."

Astoria shrugged. "What would I care if Malfoy was getting married?"

"Because you fancy him," Pansy replied, smirking when Astoria flushed, "Ah, our little Ice Princess, melting at last. It'd be endearing if it wasn't so tragic."

Gritting her teeth, Astoria looked away, ignoring Pansy as she stood up and sauntered away.

* * *

"You weren't at dinner."

Astoria shrugged. "Wasn't hungry."

"You haven't been at meals for three days," Draco pointed out, and Astoria sighed.

"Wasn't hungry then, either."

Draco reached for her, but she shook her head and moved out of reach. "Don't," she said quietly, "I don't have the energy for this."

"People think you're hiding from Pansy," he pointed out, and she scoffed.

There had only been a few people present in the library when Pansy had warned her off, but the entire school had witnessed Pansy blaming her for their break up.

"Let them."

"She won't bother you again," Draco offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I told her that you had nothing to do with me and her breaking up. I told her to apologise to you."

"Because Pansy Parkinson always does as she's told," Astoria muttered sardonically, "You've probably just made things worse."

Draco sighed. "Pansy _will_ apologise because if she doesn't her sexual preferences will become public knowledge." He exchanged a glance with Astoria. "And, believe me; she does _not_ want that to happen."

Astoria gave him a small smile. "Yeah, nobody wants to be known as the up-the-butt girl."

"How did you know?!" Draco demanded, outraged that she already knew about one of the few pieces of leverage he had over Pansy sodding Parkinson.

She looked up and laughed a little when she found him gaping at her. "Call it an educated guess. Parkinson's a prim little control freak – figures that she'd like it up the arse." Astoria eyed him warily, then. "And if you indulged her then more fool you. You'll forever be known as the boy who stuck his-,"

"I get the point," Draco muttered, shaking his head. "And, for the record, I _didn't _indulge her. Much."

"Much," Astoria repeated, amused. "Look, Malfoy, about this ball..."

"Please come," Draco interrupted, "Come on, go with me. It'll be a laugh. Zabini's coming, and Nott, and-,"

"Pansy," she added unhelpfully, studying his expression.

Draco huffed. "She's going as Terry Higgs' date, you know, the seventh year who told her off the other day? She'll be occupied all night so we'll be free to enjoy ourselves."

Astoria scoffed. "Have you _heard_ yourself? Who cares what Pansy thinks? Who cares if she has a date?"

"I can't say anything right, can I?"

"Maybe you should stop trying," she advised coolly, "Especially since your _fiancé _hates me."

To his credit, Draco didn't deny it. "It's not like I _want_ to be engaged to her," he said, "Father organised the marriage contract with her father over the summer. I don't _like _her, or anything."

"You've slept with her," Astoria pointed out, picking at her nails and turning away from him. "You're going to be marrying her eventually, whether you want to or not. It's changes things."

"How? How does it change things, Astoria? It doesn't change the way I feel about you."

She whipped around, glaring at him. "_Don't_. You're already engaged to another girl – another girl who _despises _me. Anything that happened between you and I would _ruin _me, Malfoy. There's nothing left for us. Just leave me alone."

"Merlin's tits, Astoria!" Draco exclaimed, neither knowing nor caring if anyone had heard him, "What do you _want _from me?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't want _anything_ from you."

"You know, I think I'll ask Tracey if I can escort _her _to my mother's Ball, instead," he remarked snidely, "At least she'll be a bit more _grateful _for my attentions."

"Meaning what?" Astoria scoffed, "I should count myself lucky that the fantastic _Draco Malfoy _deigned to ask me out? Hardly."

Draco glowered down at her and she stared coldly back. "You're such a bitch," he said, gritting his teeth when she smiled coldly.

"Ouch."

"I don't know why I bother!" Draco snapped, "You're not even _nice_ to me."

She held his gaze, her eyebrow twitching. "You're not _nice _to anyone." Astoria turned away from him, leaning on the rail. _Bit of a bad place for an argument_, she thought, _on top of the Astronomy tower. _

"I can't be arsed with this."

"Go then," she said, not bothering to look back at him, "Run back to Pansy and your bloody father and your bloody stupid marriage contract."

He went still, then, rage bubbling through him. Merlin, how did she do this to him?! "You don't know anything about my _father, _Greengrass. Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" Astoria asked, turning back to look at him, "Getting angry at the little fifth year, Malfoy?"

Draco was seething. Never before had anybody got him so wound up, except maybe Potter, but that was a different type of anger. He _loathed_ Potter, despised the very ground he walked on, but this? This was the kind of fury that electrified his skin and set his nerve endings on fire. He glared at her for a moment, and then roughly captured her lips in a bruising kiss.

She tried to shove him away, but her fighting quickly turned to passion, her moans of protest fading into moans of want. She clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Draco lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her over to the closest wall.

Pressing her up against it, he shifted, settling himself more comfortably between her thighs, and she groaned softly when his hips bucked against hers. Astoria pulled off his robe and allowed him to shuck hers down her arms, arching her back and moaning again when Draco palmed her breast over her clothes.

He pulled away from her, breathless and aroused as _hell_. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes filled with lust, and she immediately yanked his face back to hers, demanding more.

Draco's hands delved beneath her skirt, cupping her backside and holding her more firmly. He was pleased with her underwear – lace, he guessed, but they covered her cheeks. Sexy but modest – and she, too, seemed pleased with this development, wiggling her hips and grinding her pelvis against his.

There were footsteps on the stairs and the two shared a panicked glance.

Astoria muttered a haste disillusionment charm, hoping that she'd concentrated enough for it to be effective since her wand was buried in her robes about four feet away.

He silently lowered her to the floor, all the while maintaining a hold on her hand to ensure that he was also covered by the charm, and they rolled their eyes when they realised it was just Longbottom on his last patrol before the term ended.

Bumbling fool probably wouldn't have even noticed them even if they'd been stark naked and writhing around on the floor in full view.

He left quickly, leaving a tense silence stretching between Draco and Astoria. She pulled him back to the railing, pointing up into the sky. "Look; the sunset."

"Beautiful," he commented, pulling her into his arms again and hugging her from behind.

When she glanced back at him, he wasn't looking at the sky.

* * *

"Why were you trying to crash Slughorn's Christmas party?" Zabini asked him curiously, his distaste evident. "Who would _willingly_ sacrifice a perfectly decent Thursday evening to spend with that oaf?"

Draco shrugged. Crashing Slughorn's party had never been the plan.

And the Vanishing Cabinet was still fucking broken.

* * *

He didn't see Astoria again until they were on the train back to London. She was, of course, sitting in the Slytherin compartment, staring out of the window at the snow covered Scottish countryside.

Her long hair had been straightened and Draco was surprised by how long it was, past her waist and trailing against her lower back. She was leaning against the window, her eyes closed, having apparently fallen asleep.

He watched her for a while, enchanted by the image of her sleeping. He'd never seen her so relaxed, not even when she was lounging in her casual clothes in the common room.

"Ouch!" An elbow to his ribs distracted him and he glanced at his assaulter, frowning when he realised it was Daphne.

"Stare much?"

Draco shrugged and didn't reply, but let out a pained hiss when Daphne suddenly squeezed his thigh, digging her nails in. "Back off, Malfoy," Daphne muttered venomously, "You're engaged whether you like it or not. You'll only end up hurting Astoria in the long run. Leave her alone."

"I can do what I like," he said testily, shoving her hand away from his leg, "Astoria is a big girl, she can make her own decisions."

"She's my _sister_," Daphne insisted, "She's only fifteen and she can do a _lot_ better than you. So _back off."_

* * *

She was changing into her Christmas robes when her mother knocked on her bedroom door, a small package clutched in her long fingers.

"Astoria?"

Astoria turned from her jewellery chest and looked up at her mother, glancing down at the silver-wrapped box. "Mother?"

Cassandra Greengrass held out the box. "One of the Malfoy owls delivered this after breakfast. It is addressed to you."

Her mother's eyes were suspicious, and Astoria looked away. "I've been tutoring Draco for a while," she admitted, "Just a thank you gift, I am sure."

"He is engaged to the Parkinson girl, Astoria," her mother said quietly, "Do not be taken in by his charms."

Astoria took the package and slowly pulled off the wrapping paper, avoiding her mother's gaze. When a velvet box was revealed, her mother exhaled and folded her arms. "Open it."

Dutifully, Astoria undid the clasp on the box. Nestled inside amongst the silk cushioning was another silver charm for her bracelet. This time, it was a small flower with lilac petals. She gently lifted it out and hooked it onto her bracelet, and her mother nodded approvingly, satisfied that the gift was not inappropriate in tenure.

"Very pretty," Cassandra said, lifting Astoria's wrist to get a closer look at the bracelet. "You must write to the boy and thank him."

Astoria nodded. "Yes, mother."

Cassandra smiled at her daughter and left the room, and when the door closed behind her, Astoria pulled back the silk cushioning in the box. There, concealed beneath the gift, was a small folded note.

She opened it, holding her breath as she read.

"_Daisies represent innocence. _

_Do you know what Lilacs symbolise?_

_DM"_

* * *

He sipped slowly from his champagne flute, ignoring Tracey's prattling and staring out across the ballroom.

Astoria wasn't here yet and he was getting agitated. She'd written him a short note of gratitude after receiving his gift, but nothing that inferred that she'd figured out the message of the Lilac. He'd seen her name, along with those of her five siblings, on the RSVP list, but it was almost nine thirty and he'd yet to see any of the Greengrass family.

And then Theo whistled and he heard Daphne's voice, and Draco stiffened.

"Daphne."

Daphne, for her part, narrowed her eyes at him. "Malfoy."

...

He caught sight of her later, dancing in the arms of a thickly-built wizard, smiling like she was the happiest creature in the world.

He was rendered momentarily speechless by her gown, and swallowed thickly as he regained his composure. The dress – a figure hugging, silky black halter-neck - was high at the front, displaying her collarbone but covering the majority of her chest. The sides of her breasts were on display, and yet not indecently so; it was the back of the dress that held his attention. From the curve of her spine to her neck, her back was entirely bare, and her creamy skin was incredibly tormenting.

The gown clung to her slender frame, accentuating the curve of her waist, the flare of her bottom, the devastating length of her legs. Her dark hair had been pulled away from her face and captured in pins, anchored atop her head in a halo of curls. Covering her hands were silver gloves, fastened with black pearl buttons at her wrists.

Her eyes had been thickly outlined and her face painted, and when she smiled, Draco went limp. He tried and failed not to feel jealous that she was dancing with another man whilst looking like _that_, but when he could take it no longer, he interrupted their dance.

"May I cut in?"

Astoria stiffened a little, but social etiquette demanded she accept her new partner. "Malfoy."

Her previous partner bowed at Draco, and Astoria placed her hand in his. Draco immediately pulled her close, continuing the dance he had halted. "You came."

She let out a small breath and glanced up at him. "Yes," she said quietly.

"You look beautiful."

Astoria said nothing.

"Who was that?" Draco asked, jerking his head in the direction that her previous partner had gone.

"My brother Nikos," Astoria murmured, smiling a little when she was twirled.

Draco nodded, satisfied with her answer. "Did you like my gift?"

In response, Astoria shook her left wrist a little, and the two charms jangled pleasantly. "Yes, thank you."

"And the lilac...?"

He was shocked to notice her answering frown. "It's not appropriate," she said, her tone cool as she looked anywhere but into his eyes. "You're engaged. If Pansy knew..."

She jumped a little when his voice was suddenly at her ear, urgent and pleading. "But Pansy _doesn't_ know, Astoria. Nobody knows except you and me."

"And that's my role, is it?" Astoria hissed bitterly, deliberately stepping on his foot, "The dirty little mistress?"

He faltered a little. "Of course not..."

Astoria tilted her head, her jaw set and her gaze stony. "Stop pursuing me, Malfoy."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Astoria bit out, feeling eyes burning into her back, "They're all watching. Please, don't..."

"I want you," he admitted softly, "Much more than I should."

The music changed into a slower number and he tightened his grip on her, pressing their torsos together. She was taller than usual in her heels and was only a couple of inches short of his own height. One of his hands crept up her back and she shivered in spite of herself. "Stop it, Malfoy. It's not right."

His voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm in love with you."

She was speechless for a moment and then froze, staring at something over his shoulder.

The music stopped, the animated voices of the spectators became hushed, and Draco turned, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the Dark Lord casually took his place amongst the guests.

He'd known of the Dark Lord's presence in his home, of course, but he hadn't expected him to appear at the Christmas ball. The Dark Lord seemed to have dressed especially for the event, wearing a well tailored black suit and a black tie. He looked imposing and dangerous and Draco could only watch as some of the more nervy guests began to filter out of the room.

For their credit, the declared-neutral pureblooded families held their ground, their stances relaxed in spite of their wary eyes.

Shooting a look at his mother, who seemed just about ready to die of shame, Draco tugged Astoria behind him, wincing when the movement drew Voldemort's eye.

The Dark Lord raised his hand, calling for the music to continue, and the couples on the dance floor reluctantly resumed their waltz. Voldemort walked slowly towards Draco and Astoria, his face impassive as the dancers hastily cleared a path for him.

Upon reaching the two, Voldemort smiled.

"I do not believe I have had the pleasure of being introduced to your dance partner, Draco."

Draco flinched. "My Lord, this is Astoria Greengrass." He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, but Astoria squeezed his hand. "Astoria, this is the Dark Lord."

Astoria wordlessly held out her hand – as was the custom – and the Dark Lord raised it to his mouth, pressing a cold kiss to the back of her gloved palm. Bravely meeting his eyes, Astoria forced a small smile. "It is a pleasure, sir," she said quietly, uncomfortably aware that everyone in the room was now staring at her.

Voldemort smirked. "The _pleasure_ is all mine, Miss Greengrass." Draco's jaw clenched as the Dark Lord looked appreciatively at Astoria's attire. "Would I be correct in assuming that you are Hektor's daughter?"

Astoria nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Would you care to dance, Miss Greengrass?" He extended a hand and bowed a little.

Knowing she dared not refuse, and yet altogether wishing that she could, Astoria placed her palm in his. Draco bowed shallowly to the Dark Lord and stepped away, watching anxiously as Astoria was swept into the dancing crowd.

"Are you afraid?" Voldemort asked her quietly, and Astoria glanced up at him.

"A little," she admitted, breathing a discrete sigh of relief when he laughed heartily.

He grinned down at her. "My reputation precedes me, I see." He seemed pleased by this, and they were silent for a moment, until he spoke again. "You are an exquisite dancer, Miss Greengrass."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well taught, no doubt, by your mother." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Young Draco desires you."

She didn't reply.

"And yet," Voldemort went on, "You are not his fiancé."

"No," Astoria murmured in agreement. "Draco and I are just friends."

He laughed again, but the sound was harsher, this time. "Nonsense," he said, "Any fool can see how he cares for you."

"And yet, I am not his fiancé," she repeated, flinching as she realised her misstep.

"You are very brave, Miss Greengrass," Voldemort observed, "How very foolish bravery is, in the grand scheme of things. Bravery will not win you a Malfoy, nor will honour, or decency. Malfoys are creatures of bad faith; slippery, deceitful, inconsistent beings that disappoint at every turn."

Astoria looked away, and Voldemort lifted her chin with one of his long fingers, raising her face to look into her eyes. "Bravery is a trait I value, Miss Greengrass. You would be of use to me."

"Forgive me, sir, my father-"

"Is a declared neutral, yes, yes," Voldemort said impatiently, his eyes flaring with frustration, and then another emotion settled there, and Astoria almost recoiled. "But I spoke of myself, not of my cause. A creature with bravery such as yours and the beauty to match..." His eyes swept over her again, his admiration and desire evident, now, "Deserves power greater than can be achieved through marriage to a Malfoy."

She caught his meaning then and gasped, averting her eyes. "Sir..."

The music changed and Voldemort smirked down at her. "Think on it," he murmured, glancing across to where Lucius Malfoy was standing. He bowed a little and stepped away. "Until we meet again, Miss Greengrass."

Astoria stood alone for a moment, dazed by the encounter, until a hand on her wrist pulled her out of the crowds and into a side room. She looked up, confused, as her mother grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly. Her father looked concerned, her brothers impassive, and Daphne terrified.

"What did you say to him?" Cassandra hissed, "Did you offend him?"

Astoria slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered, sinking down into a chair.

Wordlessly, a glass of firewhiskey was shoved into her hands, and she drained the glass. It was then that she noticed that her hands were shaking, and tears welled in her eyes. Her father knelt before her, his hand on her knee. "You're safe," he said quietly, "It's alright."

...

She could feel their eyes on her, following her around the room as she said her goodbyes.

Draco stepped into her line of vision and she swallowed thickly as he approached her, disgust blossoming in her eyes.

"You knew he was here. Your family is harbouring him," she accused, and he nodded wordlessly.

He bent to kiss her hand, but she pulled it away as if his touch burned her. Her farewell was cold and unforgiving. "Goodbye, Malfoy."


End file.
